Face, Voice, Hands
by Animom
Summary: If he'd thought about it at all – which he hadn't – he wouldn't have expected it to begin that way, standing in the rain at the annual memorial service for Mokuba, long after they'd all given up trying to get through to him. ** Primarily a friendship fic, Jounouchi POV, with slight Jounouchi/Kaiba. Clichés used sparingly. (Temenos series #4)
1. The Memorial

Yu-Gi-Oh is the intellectual property of Kazuki Takahashi and Konami, and is being used in this fanfiction for fan purposes only. No infringement or disrespect is intended by this fanfiction.

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This story is the fourth in an alternate-reality series about the shattering and eventual re-integration of Kaiba's persona through his often-antagonistic friendships.  
As a sequel to _KP Duty_ and _Coming Clean,_ this story references non-canon fictional events from those two stories, and though it certainly can be read without them, having read those two stories will give the characterizations of this story the setting that the author intended.

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**Face, Voice, Hands: 1**  
_by Animom_

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If he'd thought about it at all—which he hadn't—he wouldn't have expected it to begin that way, standing in the rain at the annual memorial service for Mokuba, years after he'd given up hope.

~ : ~

This year, the four of them were gathering, as usual, to share the ride to the cemetery. Riding together was part of the ritual, as were the orange lilies that they would put in the mausoleum's stone vases after they saw Kaiba leave.

Last year it had been sunny. Two years before it had snowed. This year it was raining hard, and Jounouchi's umbrella fought him, tilting up maliciously to let the rain in, trying to pull him off the curb into traffic. As the other three converged on the Game Shop he closed the useless thing, black fabric and metal ribs flapping like gargoyle wings.

"Who's driving?"

Anzu held up her keys.

"Posh." He wiped the rain from his face.

"You smell like wet dog." Honda murmured.

"Love you too," he said as he got in the back seat.

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"I wonder if he'll postpone going this year? Didn't he just get out of the hospital?"

"He'll be there," Anzu said. "Even if he's on a gurney with an IV attached."

"The car accident he was in was that bad?" Jounouchi asked. "What happened?"

"Who knows?" Yuugi spoke in a monotone, staring out the car window. "Depending on which gossip you read, he was drunk, or he was high, or a tire blew out, or the road was wet, or he was trying to kill himself." After a pause, he added softly, "It's not like any of us called him him to find out."

_Guilty_, Jounouchi thought. They had once had a tenuous connection with the older Kaiba as a result of the adventures they'd all shared with him and his brother—hell, Shizuka had been on the verge of dating Mokuba—but that had all been shot to shit when the Rain Forest Studies Institute plane Mokuba had been flying went down somewhere in South America. They had all called Kaiba, of course: between the four of them they tried dozens of times in the first weeks after the tragedy, made calls that were never picked up, left messages that were never returned. After a few months Kaiba withdrew entirely from public life, stopped dueling, and ran the company (or so the occasional magazine article said) via phone calls and email.

The four of them had talked about him now and then over the years, Jounouchi had to admit that they'd stopped trying to get through to him.

"Look, we were never friends with _Kaiba_," Honda said finally. "Mokuba was the human one."

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It was always awkward when they got there.

The first year news of the private ceremony had leaked to fan sites, and so the clearing surrounding the secluded mausoleum had been packed with people: an outer ring of paparazzi, trampling each other in their eagerness to snap just the right photo of the handsome grieving genius billionaire; the general public, gawking without cameras; then the genuine mourners; and then half a dozen bodyguards surrounding Kaiba at the center of it all, his grief so intense that it kept everyone who had known Mokuba at a distance, miserable and inarticulate.

Every year the mob had been smaller and less rabid, until the outer rings finally became bored and fell away. Even the mourners had dwindled: last year only Ryou and Otogi had joined the four of them. Then as now they stood under the trees at the very edge of the clearing, showing Kaiba their support, giving him privacy, though they knew he would never acknowledge them.

The suit he wore was perfectly tailored to accommodate the casts on his arm and leg. The cane was discreet. The bodyguards who stood at the other side of the clearing held umbrellas over a wheelchair.

At precisely noon there was, as there had been every year, a recording of a piece of music that always made Jounouchi picture a trapped bird desperately beating its wings. By the end, this year as every year, Anzu and Yuugi were sobbing.

But this time something … maybe it was so many years of hearing that song, or the rain's sudden increase in tempo, or something in the way Kaiba stood, so isolated and unmoving in the downpour, or the thought that, of all of them, Kaiba's life had changed the most since high school … or perhaps it was just that he hated to see people in pain, no matter who they were, but whatever it was Jounouchi found himself handing his umbrella to Honda and walking across the sodden grass to Kaiba's side to put an arm around him in comfort.

Kaiba didn't react at all, and so Jounouchi stayed. He wondered if Kaiba was crying but he didn't dare look: all he did was keep his arm firmly around the brunet's back (he could feel some sort of rigid brace beneath the fabric: how badly _had_ he been hurt in that crash?). He stared straight ahead at the mausoleum, blinking the rain out of his eyes as he watched his friends come into view and place the orange lilies. They glanced curiously at him before they finally walked away.

Long minutes after the sound of Anzu's car had faded, the bodyguards approached. When Jounouchi said, "Let's get him home," no one objected.

_._

_~ to be continued ~_

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AN: The musical piece referred to is "Fratres" by Arvo Pärt. It's a beautiful piece of music, simultaneously hopeful and sad, but heart-wrenching either way.

P.S. Sometimes which "he" is meant is ambiguous. This was deliberate. :p

(14) 26 September 2013.


	2. A Conversation

Yu-Gi-Oh is the intellectual property of Kazuki Takahashi and Konami, and is being used in this fanfiction for fan purposes only. No infringement or disrespect is intended by this fanfiction.

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**Face, Voice, Hands: 2**  
_by Animom_

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The bedroom was not at all what he had imagined.

The mansion itself was huge. Tall double doors opened into a foyer the size of a hotel lobby. The bodyguards helped Kaiba take off his rain coat, steadied him as he toed off his shoes. Jounouchi expected them to then go up the sweeping double staircase and into some luxury bedroom suite the size of a tennis court, but instead they headed down a narrow hallway and into a kitchen.

"Painkiller, sir?" the oldest of the three bodyguards asked, taking a glass from a cabinet. There were several bottles of pills on the counter.

"Later," Kaiba said. His voice was hoarse and listless.

Jounouchi stood in the kitchen and watched as the bodyguards helped Kaiba down a second, even narrower hallway. They stopped outside a doorway; Kaiba took off his suit coat and tie, then moved out of sight inside the room. Jounouchi heard the senior bodyguard ask, "Pajamas?" Kaiba's quiet "No," and then rustling and creaking.

A moment later the bodyguards began to file back the way they'd come, all but one—an older man with dark gray hair and a stern face—passing him and leaving the kitchen without making eye contact. The man glanced at his phone, then asked, "Will you require a ride?"

The question hadn't sounded like a polite way of throwing him out, so Jounouchi said, "I, uh, thought I'd stay a while." After all, it was stupid to have come all the way out to the mansion just to turn around and leave. As he wiped at a trickle of water inching down the back of his neck from his rain-soaked hair he added, knowing it sounded lame, "I could sit with him. Keep him company. I'm an old school friend. Jounouchi Katsuya. You could look it up."

"No need." The old man took a towel from a drawer and held it out. "I am Noroshi. If you wish, I can arrange to have your clothes dried."

"That would be great," Jounouchi said. He took off his sodden suit jacket, then took the towel and draped it around his neck.

"Anything else?" Noroshi asked as he took the jacket.

"Well, since you're offering …" With a self-conscious laugh Jounouchi shucked his pants, then peeled off his socks as well. "Now, don't get the wrong idea. I don't usually strip for strangers."

Noroshi smiled faintly as he took the wet clothes.

Jounouchi, feeling self-conscious and more than a little stupid now that he was dressed only in his dress shirt and boxers, tiptoed down the hallway, but when he peered around the corner Kaiba seemed to be asleep, his back to the door.

Jounouchi had figured that the room would be small—since it was off the kitchen he figured that this area of the mansion was the servant's quarters, or something—but it still surprised him how very small and plain it was, with barely enough space to move around. A twin bed was against the wall opposite the door; a low dresser faced the foot of the bed, and a small desk was against the wall next to the door. The only light came from two slit-like windows just below the ceiling; there were no pictures, no mirror, no decoration of any kind; and the only color came from some folded blue clothing on the dresser.

If someone had told him to imagine Kaiba's bedroom, this—this would be the exact opposite of that.

He lifted the desk chair noiselessly and turned it sideways so that he could sit. Being quiet and doing nothing was not high on his list of favorite things: he'd rather be moving, doing something, but in this situation it seemed the right thing to do.

Which .. yeah, What exactly was this situation, anyhow? He was in the bedroom of someone that neither he nor any of his friends had seen or talked to for years, and odds were the only thing he'd accomplish when Kaiba woke up would be to get insulted and thrown out.

So why the hell had he thought this was a good idea? Ever since they'd met Kaiba he'd been a snobby, selfish asshole ninety-seven percent of the time, always ready to show how much richer, and smarter, and completely set apart from everyone else he was. The few times he had helped Yugi and the rest of them he'd snarled about it the whole time, and was extra-dickish afterward if anyone tried to be friendly … but then, like Yugi said, there was that three percent. "He's trapped inside his armor," Jounouchi remembered Yugi saying once. "I don't know if he doesn't realize it or is too proud to admit it, but I'm sure deep down he's no different than you or me."

Which is why they all kept going to the memorial service every year, and why Jounouchi was sitting half-undresed on an uncomfortable chair in a tiny dim room watching a sleeping guy who, except for two notable occasions, had never been anything but rude to him: because you just didn't abandon people, even if they were Kaiba.

He was startled by a touch on his arm. Noroshi, in the doorway with his clothes. Jounouchi tiptoed into the hallway and smiled as he pulled on his pants, warm from the dryer. "It's kinda cold in there," he whispered as he leaned against the wall to pull on his socks. "I think he could use an extra blanket or two."

"I'll see to it," Noroshi said quietly. "May I offer you some coffee?"

"That would—" Jounouchi hesitated. He hadn't sat with Kaiba very long; would it look like he had only come to the mansion to get dry clothes and a handout?

"It was thoughtful of you to visit," Noroshi said. "But, unless he needs a painkiller, he is unlikely to wake for several hours. Public appearances take a great deal of his energy."

"Okay. Coffee would be great."

In the kitchen Noroshi asked, "Do you prefer drip or espresso?"

"Whatever's easier." Jounouchi watched as Noroshi opened a cabinet and took out a small electric coffeemaker. Just as the door was closing he glimpsed a narrow-waisted silver pot that looked familiar.

"So," he said, "Looks like he must've got hurt pretty bad in that crash." When Noroshi didn't reply it occurred to Jounouchi that he might be hesitant to say anything that might wind up in a tabloid or gossip show. "Aw, it's okay. You don't know me, you don't have to talk to me about anything."

"Would we have let you in here or left you alone with him if we didn't know anything about you?"

"Heh, I guess not." Jounouchi felt flattered. "So what, you have a file on me or something?"

Noroshi didn't answer this. He filled the carafe with water, then said as he measured out ground coffee into the filter, "He had many broken bones. It was fortunate the paramedics got there quickly."

"Does he have one of those breath-measuring things?" Jounouchi watched the coffee dripping in the glass pot, thinking of how he'd had to make his dad practice breathing between hospital stays.

"An incentive spirometer. He did. He threw it away."

"Really?" Jounouchi shook his head. "See, I would've expected Kaiba to set up a website with a chart proving that he takes deeper breaths than anyone else who's ever had broken ribs."

Noroshi suppressed a small smile and set out a mug.

"Though, I guess that's more something the old Kaiba would have done. That guy in there," Jounouchi nodded in the direction of the hallway, "Is he like that all the time, or just after the memorial?"

Noroshi was thoughtful as he poured the coffee. He set the carafe down. "It's worse this year."

"Really? That's—well, not that I ever felt like I knew him all that well, but he seems like he's just given up and waiting for death. That's not the Kaiba I knew in high school." He sipped his coffee. "If he was gonna try to kill himself, I would'a thought he'd've done it a few years ago, since Mokuba seemed to be his main reason for living."

Noroshi didn't reply, just looked out the kitchen window into the garden. After a few minutes he turned to face Jounouchi. "He finally called off the search."

"What, it was still going on?" Yugi and Jounouchi had watched the initial coverage of the search for wreckage and survivors on TV, of course, following it in newspapers and then on-line for a few months as lack of results made the story less and less exciting. The last mention they'd seen—aside from the causal mention in the rare general article about Kaiba or Kaiba Corporation itself—had been a small rumor about of lawsuits. Supposedly the families of the other victims were accusing Mokuba of having deviated from his filed flight plan.

"That was the information that the media had, yes."

Jounouchi nodded. "Makes sense. I shoulda known he'd never give up on his brother that fast."

Noroshi stood and bowed slightly. "Now, please excuse me, I have some things to attend to. Help yourself to more coffee or something to eat." He left the kitchen.

"Aw, Kaiba," Jounouchi said softly, staring at the coffee as if the steam might hold a way to give comfort to the bereaved.

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After he finished his coffee Jounouchi rinsed the mug, filled it with cold water, then took it and the bottle of painkillers back down the hall to Kaiba's room.

As he set the pills and the mug of water on the desk he was pleased to see that Kaiba was now covered with both a second blanket and an antique-looking quilt. In addition, a small upholstered lounge chair had been set next to the bed; there was a folded lap blanket on the seat.

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Jounouchi realized that he must have dozed off, because he woke to a raspy wheezing sound.

Kaiba had rolled over. His face was pinched with pain, but his eyes blazed under his disheveled hair. "Why the hell are you here?"

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~ to be continued ~

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A/N: As this is set in an AR, Kaiba's major domo is named Noroshi rather than Isono/Roland. Noroshi means "beacon, skyrocket, signal fire" in the sense of a light that guides (it's sometimes used to mean a lighthouse).

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(13) 27 September 2013


	3. Comfort Food

Yu-Gi-Oh is the intellectual property of Kazuki Takahashi and Konami, and is being used in this fanfiction for fan purposes only. No infringement or disrespect is intended by this fanfiction.

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**Face, Voice, Hands: 3**  
_by Animom_

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Kaiba's face was pinched with pain, but his eyes were blazing under his disheveled hair. "Why the hell are _you_ here?"

"I don't really know," Jounouchi said calmly. "It just seemed like the right thing to do."

Kaiba looked stunned.

"Here." Jounouchi stood, shook one of the painkillers out into the cap of the pill bottle and then handed the mug of water and the cap to Kaiba. "Take one. You need help sitting up?"

Kaiba winced as he pushed himself upright with his good arm. He threw the pill into his mouth and took a swallow of water.

"Drink it all," Jounouchi said. "You need to stay hydrated."

"Since when did you get a medical degree?" he asked, but finished the water.

"I pick up a lot from watching doctor shows." Jounouchi took the mug and the empty cap. "Need anything else?"

"No." Kaiba eased himself back down with a quick grimace, watching Jounouchi warily. "When are you leaving?"

"Whenever you kick me out. I got nothing going on." Jounouchi noisily settled himself in the lounge chair.

Kaiba had closed his eyes and seemed to have drifted off. The still air in the room, damp and slightly chilly, gave the silence an almost tactile quality that seemed to amplify sound; as the minutes went by Jounouchi could have sworn he could hear Kaiba's shallow, slightly labored breathing.

"Soup," Kaiba said abruptly.

"OK," Jounouchi said, "any kind in particular?"

"Nothing I have to chew."

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The refrigerator shelves were stocked with containers of meals for one, the lids marked with hand-written heating directions. Behind a stack of _nikujaga_ containers he found some pints of _miso_ and what looked like _sumashijiru_; he took them both out. As he started opening cabinets in search of two pots to heat the soup in, he saw something unexpected. One of the smaller, out-of-the-way corner cabinets was stocked with nothing but instant beef bowls and wasabi peas.

"Huh," he said, picking up a package of the peas. "Huh."

"Eat all you like," Noroshi said, having come catlike into the kitchen. "We get tired of throwing them out." At Jounouchi's blank look he added, "For as long as anyone can remember that cabinet has been stocked with just those two items. Twice a year we toss out the older packages and add new ones. No one understands why." He shrugged.

"Huh," Jounouchi said. Instant beef bowl, wasabi peas – he'd eaten those on the day, more than ten years before, when he had cut class to visit Kaiba at home. Things had been so intense back then, around the time that Yugi had almost died in the warehouse fire, and on top of everything he'd found out just how fucked up Kaiba was as a result of Duelist Kingdom. Mai had been such a lifesaver, helping him sort himself out, helping him see that what he wanted and what was possible weren't even in the same time zone.

Yet this – how was Jounouchi to interpret this? If it had been anyone other than Kaiba he would have said that ever since then they'd stocked up on foods they thought he liked in hopes that he'd come visiting again. "Nah, it can't be," he muttered.

"Pardon?" Noroshi was looking at him quizzically.

"Soup," Jounouchi said, "he said he'd eat soup. I got him to take a pill."

Noroshi glanced at the collection of bottles on the counter. "What did you give him?"

"Nap-something. The bottle said 'For pain as needed.' "

"Naproxen?"

"Yeah, that one."

"Hm." Noroshi went to one of the lower cabinets, took out two small pots, and handed then to Jounouchi. "Are you planning to stay for a while?"

"Today? Yeah, I was," Jounouchi said, pouring the two soups into the pans and setting them on the stove, "if that's OK."

"It is. See if you can get him to take one of these next time." He held up one of the remaining bottles, then set it on the counter next to the stove. "It's stronger."

"OK." Jounouchi stirred the soups. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course. I might choose not to answer."

"Fair enough." He had several questions, but he figured that Noroshi was only good for one. "He's not just in that tiny room because of the cast, is he? Since I'll bet you guys have an elevator to the upstairs."

Noroshi sighed heavily and sat at the kitchen table. "He's slept in there for the past six years."

Jounouchi turned the stove down low and sat across from Noroshi. "Since the plane crash? So that's his old room? From when he was first adopted or something?"

Noroshi folded his arms on the table. "How well do you know Mr Kaiba? Do you consider yourself his friend?"

"We went to school together," Jounouchi said. "We were in some of the same tournaments. He helped some of us – " he almost said _Save the world a few times_ but stopped himself. "I don't think anyone really knew – _knows_ – him but Mokuba. And he's – well, he's not big on friends. Being rich and all, I guess he can't afford to trust anyone much."

"It's not just that, he's – " Noroshi said, but stopped himself before saying more. "Better take him that soup."

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Kaiba was sitting up and scowling when Jounouchi entered the room. "Took you long enough."

"I got _miso_ and _sumashijiru_. Which do you want?"

"Put them on the desk." As Jounouchi did Kaiba swung his unbroken left leg over the edge of the bed and struggled to sit up. He glared when Jounouchi moved to help him. "I hate being this way," he growled. "Weak."

"You're got cause," Jounouchi said, not sure how he could help Kaiba without hurting him. He finally grasped the brunet's uninjured right arm and pulled him to a sitting position. "You've got, what? A broken leg, a broken arm, and like twenty broken ribs or something?"

"Not that many." Kaiba scowled and reached for the nearest mug of soup, but it was several inches out of range.

Jounouchi waited a second before picking it up and handing it to him. "How's the pain? Noroshi said you should take the prescription painkiller instead of what I gave you before."

"Figures you'd screw it up." Kaiba had been taking quick sips of the soup, and was almost done with it.

"Well," Jounouchi said, determined not to let Kaiba piss him off, "you can only learn so much from doctor shows."

"Hn."

"Now, _that_ growl sounded like the old asshole Kaiba-sama I know and love so much," Jounouchi said.

"Give me my pill and leave me alone," Kaiba said, his voice suddenly thick. He held out his hand, quickly swallowed the pill, gulped down the second mug of soup, and then rolled back onto his side, his back to Jounouchi.

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Noroshi was still at the kitchen table when Jounouchi brought the mugs back. He was talking quietly on his cell phone, but rang off as Jounouchi entered. "How is he?"

"He drank the soup. He took the pill. He snarled at me. I guess he's getting back to normal."

"He's not always an easy person to be around."

"Tell me about it." He laughed. "Is he _ever_ easy to be around?"

Noroshi smiled and ran a hand though his graying hair. "Have you ever gone whitewater rafting? One of the first things you learn is how to recognize submerged rocks and approaching rapids. And how to handle them."

"And the excitement is worth the stress." Jounouchi said without thinking, then inwardly laughed at himself. Oh yeah, that hadn't sounded gay at all.

Not that he was still into Kaiba. Not after all these years. Nope. All that crazy was long gone.

Noroshi, reading a text message, didn't seem to have heard.

"So … I'll go back and sit with him a while longer." It was dusk outside the kitchen windows; the garden was a looming mass of shadow.

"We can drive you home when you're ready to go," Noroshi said without looking up.

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Jounouchi walked slowly back down the darkening hall. So why _was_ he hanging around here, anyhow? Was he really thinking, after all these years, he could befriend Kaiba? And even if it was possible, what then? He was pretty sure that being Kaiba's friend was going to be like trying to use a tiny spark to start a campfire in the bottom of a raft just before going over a waterfall in the middle of the wilderness.

Impossible odds, an insane amount of patience. _Would_ the rewards be worth the stress?

As he got close to the room he could hear the muffled sounds of grief.

"Holy shit," he said soundlessly.

Okay, rewards – if there were even going to _be_ any – rewards didn't matter, and as for the why, he'd sort that out later: but right now, he knew the right thing to do, and so he went into the room, and even before his eyes had adjusted to the dark he sat on the edge of the bed, began to rub the trembling back, and launched himself into the unknown.

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_~ to be continued ~_

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A/N: _Nikujaga_ is a comfort food made of stewed potatoes flavored with meat and onion. It is usually served with white rice and miso. _Sumashijiru_ is a clear seafood broth. ~ I realize that it's probably silly to talk about food that most readers haven't heard of – and YGO has never emphasized its Japanese setting all that strongly – but for some reason it still feels like the right thing to me.

(08) 27 September 2013


	4. Confessions

Yu-Gi-Oh is the intellectual property of Kazuki Takahashi and Konami, and is being used in this fanfiction for fan purposes only. No infringement or disrespect is intended by this fanfiction.

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**Face, Voice, Hands: 4**  
_by Animom_

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He heard someone come down the hall, and turned his head just enough to see Noroshi in the doorway. After long silent minutes he went away. A while after that he noticed that Kaiba was quiet: had he finally fallen asleep?

Jounouchi shifted his weight and twisted to lay on his side. He drew his legs up and pillowed his head on his arm. Then, hesitantly, he put his other hand on the quilt covering Kaiba's shoulder. The old fabric smelled of cedar.

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It took him a moment to remember where he was, why he was there.

Oh yeah. Kaiba. Funeral. Memories.

It was still completely dark in the room, and the mansion was silent. Had he slept?

And then he could have sworn he heard Kaiba ask, "Why?"

He wasn't sure how to put it. _Because you look broken, and that bugs me. Because I keep thinking about how I'd feel if I was in your place. Because I'm pissed at myself for giving up on you. __All of that would have been fine, but _what he found himself saying instead was, "Why do you have a cabinet of beef bowls and wasabi peas?"

There was no response. Kaiba must still be sleeping.

Well, he probably should be going. As he shifted on to his back and started to sit up he heard Kaiba say, "For eating." It was spoken quietly, almost as an exhale.

Maybe he could stay a little longer. "Well, _yeah_."

There was a soft snort.

Jounouchi laid back down, curling his arm under his head. He wanted to stay, to talk, to feel like he'd cheered Kaiba up a little. "You probably think that all of us have always hated you. But it's not true. At first you were cool, because the teachers never yelled at you—hell, they hardly ever called on you. It was like they were _afraid_ to, and we'd only ever seen them act that way to gang leaders. We were all pretty sure you weren't that, but you were definitely a mystery.

"Everybody had theories about what your deal was—well, the guys. The girls just sat around crushing."He smiled. "Honda and I really wanted to figure out what your deal was. I used to pretend I was half-asleep and staring at nothing in class, but that was just my cover. I noticed that you didn't have to pay any attention to the teacher to get straight As because whenever you were reading, it was never a textbook.

"Anyhow, one day in math, with that terrible algebra teacher, what was her name? Ibarra? Anyhow, I looked over at your face, and you were staring right at me. Your eyes like—_drilled_ into me, and they looked really dark, almost black, but didn't have any expression." It was funny that the distance of years hadn't softened the memory. "I decided then that you must be a superspy. Like James Bond. License to kill." Jounouchi scratched his chin. "Honda said I was crazy, because there wasn't any good reason why you'd be undercover at Domino High, but I was sure I was right. The fancy car, the laptop computer, the acting all secret …."

"Miller."

"Huh?"

"Algebra was Miller. Ibarra was statistics."

"Oh yeah, that's right." It seemed a good sign that Kaiba was talking more.

"So you thought I was an international superspy?"

"Yeah, and I really wanted you to be our friend." Jounouchi nudged Kaiba with his elbow, to soften the sting of what he was going to say next. "_Until_ that day you tried to buy the Blue Eyes card from Yugi's Gramps. That was the beginning of the _'Why is Kaiba such a raging asshole?'_ phase."

Seto rolled over onto his back. "Phase?" he asked. He held his left arm, heavy in its cast, across his chest.

"Yeah, it was a phase. Lasted quite a while. I think Honda's still in it."

"It ended—for—some people?"

"Yeah. It had been tapering off, but the exact moment when it was over," he waved his hand: none the words he could think of sounded right, "well, maybe not _over_, but it faded a lot ... while we were in that crazy virtual world of Noa's. That speech you gave while you were dueling him, the things you said about being human, about how human life is chaotic, woven of joy and pain. You said that the challenge of living in such a world gave you strength."

"I never said that."

"Yes, you did. Everyone heard it. We couldn't believe it, we'd all thought you were the type who'd rather be a robot or a computer brain, because then you'd be perfect, but there you were talking about messiness and passion. Anyhow, that pretty much started the phase of thinking that there was a lot more to you than just a raging asshole. At least for me." He kept his voice light, since he was getting close to dangerous territory. "You might remember, a long time ago, that day I was at your house, I joked that the trick was to get to it without cutting you in half."

Kaiba didn't respond right away. When he did, his voice was deliberately casual as well. "So when did _that_ phase end?"

"It hasn't." Jounouchi rolled on his side, propping himself up on his elbow. He wasn't sure if bringing up their past was a good thing, considering that it had been a mess of bad timing and different pages from the start, but at least Kaiba was talking. "Everyone has always felt bad that we never tried to keep you in the circle."

"Keep? There was nothing to keep. I was never in your circle."

"Well, then we should have chased you harder, dragged you in there with us." He grinned. "I sometimes wish that _I'd_ chased you more. Enough to catch you at least once."

And then Kaiba bought his uninjured right arm out from under the covers and slid it around his neck, pulling him down, holding on as tightly as if he were drowning, and pressing his face into the crook of Jounouchi's neck.

_Shit._ "Kaiba—"

Kaiba let go of him and turned his head away. "My mistake."

"No," Jounouchi said, then, more firmly. "No, no mistake. I'd jump ya, really, right now, but I can't with you being all banged up. You probably have stitches in your mouth."

At that Kaiba gave short, barking laugh, cut short by a hiss of pain.

"Ribs, huh?"

"Ribs."

"I'll get you another pill." Jounouchi said. "Anything else while I'm up?"

.

As he padded down the dim hallway to the kitchen Jounouchi felt like an idiot. What the hell was he doing? He was supposed to be helping Kaiba, not making him feel worse!

_Funny thing,_ he thought, _if I didn't know myself better I'd think I was still into the guy._

No, no, he totally wasn't. It was just a weird situation—and then, Kaiba was hardly himself either. Between the loneliness and the painkillers he was probably so out of it he had no idea what he was doing. Which was a good thing. Save everyone a lot of embarrassment.

Still, if nothing else, it showed how bad off Kaiba was. He definitely needed help, but of course he'd never ask for it. And that was the problem, because they'd all held back, waiting for him to make the first move. The thing to do, obviously, was to take the initiative. Pound the doors down and just generally hang around until Kaiba stopped fighting the idea of having friends. Who knew, maybe he wouldn't, and … well, _that_ would be an interesting change.

Jou grinned. Taking on Kaiba as a project had the bonus of getting him out of a rut, too. Not that his current situation was bad, exactly, but he was ready for a change. He hadn't been interested in a high-stress career after high school, had been more than content to do stuff with his friends (when they had time), and work construction and finish carpentry jobs. He'd even gone off and worked in Australia for a while, but lately it had started to bug him that the only really _big_ thing he'd ever done, the thing everyone still praised him for—paying for the operation that saved his sister's sight—had only been possible because of a gift from Yugi.

He was surprised to see Noroshi at the kitchen table, doing a crossword puzzle by the light of a small book lamp. The clock over the stove said 4:17 am. "Geez, don't you ever sleep?"

"Yes. How is he?"

"Not too bad," Jounouchi said as he filled a glass with water. "Needs another knockout pill and some soup." As the older man started to stand Jounouchi waved him down. "Don't get up, I remember where the pans are."

As he took one of the containers of seafood broth from the refrigerator he asked, "Hey, does Kaiba have stitches in his mouth?"

"No," Noroshi said. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." He poured the soup into the pan and adjusted the heat. "Figured that's why he's just eating soup." He stirred. "So, at the funeral he was wearing a big chest brace. What was that?"

"It holds him upright and prevents him from doubling over if he gets a sudden pain."

"Ah. Tough guy." Jounouchi turned off the stove.

"Pride, and the need to appear strong for the relentless public eye." Noroshi set a clean mug on the counter next to him and said, "Before you take that, there's a story you should hear. It won't take long."

"Sure." Jounouchi leaned against the stove and folded his arms, curious.

"This was told to me by Mokuba," Noroshi began. "When they first arrived at the orphanage they were befriended by a boy named Hatch. Hatch was one of the few who spent time playing with the brothers and didn't try to terrorize them. Over time Seto came to trust Hatch—enough that he confided some secret childhood fear to him."

"This story ain't gonna have a happy ending, is it?"

"No. Hatch betrayed him, using Seto's secret as the price of entry into a select group of boys who were the lords of the orphanage. Weeks of mockery and humiliation followed."

Jounouchi shook his head. "Kids can be such shits."

Noroshi leaned forward. "Mokuba felt that ever since then, Mr. Kaiba considers friendship to be a trick people use to try to get him to drop his guard. The kinder someone is to him, the harder they try to befriend him, the more suspicious he is. Instead of believing that he has met someone that he can trust, he—do you know the expression, 'waits for the other shoe to drop' ?"

"Yeah. Pegasus—" Jounouchi began, but stopped himself: he didn't know how much Noroshi knew about Duelist Kingdom. Pegasus had referred to Kaiba as his "friend" too, and look at what he'd done to him. No wonder Kaiba was so wary—and no wonder he'd shut them out. Yugi especially must have set off every alarm Kaiba had. "I appreciate hearing the story, Noroshi. It kinda explains a lot, and I get the moral. I've never been overly delicate with Kaiba, so I won't start now."

"Good." Noroshi nodded. "It would be quite a feat, breaking through the brambles."

"Alright then," Jounouchi said "I accept the quest. Since Kaiba's not gonna go out shopping for a friend, I think it's about time he had one home-delivered."

.

"So," Jounouchi said as he stood by the bed and helped Kaiba sit up. "Here's your pill and some soup."

"Leaving?" Kaiba's voice was flat, accusing. He tossed the pill into his mouth and drank the water.

"That's right, pull up the drawbridge." Jounouchi said. "Look, I'm just gonna come right out and say this, the way I would to anyone else." He took the glass, then handed Seto the mug of broth. "You need to stop with this hermit thing."

"Really." The word was abrupt, a door slamming.

"You can't stay holed up here alone. It's killing you. Mokuba wouldn't want that." He paused to let that sink in. "You need to be around people. Do stuff. Get a roommate. Date someone. Get a dog."

"Which one of those are you offering to be?" There wasn't enough early dawn light for Jounouchi to read Seto's expression, but he certainly heard more than a little of the old snide prickliness.

"I'm in the middle of a big remodeling project at the Game Shop right now, pretty much been living there, so I'm easy to find." He watched as Seto lay back down and put his good arm across his eyes. "Now rest." Unable to resist a dig, he added, "After all, you gotta hurry up and heal, get rid of those stitches in your mouth before you get sick of soup." He straightened the blankets and quilt, then went in search of his shoes.

.

As he sat on the stairs by the front door and put on his shoes, Noroshi came into the hall.

"Thank you for coming by," he said. "I've called for a car to take you home, if you'd be willing to wait for it. Will we be seeing you again?"

"I hope so." Jounouchi shrugged into his jacket. "And if not, it was nice to meet you."

Noroshi smiled thinly. "And you as well, Mr. Jounouchi."

Jounouchi opened the huge double doors. The street was empty, the morning quiet except for some enthusiastic birds.

"The car will be around in a moment," Noroshi said, but just then they head a faint thumping sound, gradually increasing in volume and frequency.

"What the hell—?" Jounouchi said, "Is something exploding in the _kitchen_?"

Noroshi turned toward the sound, raising his walkie talkie to his mouth—but stopped.

Kaiba appeared in the hallway that led to the kitchen. Disheveled, wearing only oversized boxers to accommodate the cast that covered most of his right leg, he was using the walls in place of his cane, his head down, watching the placement of each step. A crooked line of heavy black stitches ran up the front of his left leg and curved inward across his thigh, out of sight under the edge of his boxers.

"Sir!" Noroshi said, moving toward him, but Kaiba shook his head, then lifted it to stare at Jounouchi.

"Kaiba?" Damnit, it wasn't fair, that one person could cram so much pain and hunger in his eyes.

"Jounouchi—" Kaiba's mouth and jaw were working, as if he were going to be sick. His voice was gravelly.

___He really has changed. _Jounouchi thought. _He's going to thank me for visiting._

"I see you finally found the door."

"Kaiba, you—!" Jounouchi bristled, then stopped; there was amusement and triumph in the blue eyes now too.

And just like that, all of Jounouchi's old feelings came roaring back, and he accepted that yeah, as stupid as it was and made no sense he _was_ still into the guy, the stubborn, snotty, standoffish jerk who still drove him more crazy, in every meaning of the word, than anyone he'd ever known. He shook his head. "Okay, you got me that time. Game's not over yet, though."

He heard the car pull up to the curb outside. "I'm leavin'. See ya, Noroshi," he said, stepping out of the mansion and into the misty, blinding light of morning.

.

.

_~ to be continued ~_

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(13) 27 September 2013 ~ it's Radfel's fault.


	5. The Chess Lesson

Yu-Gi-Oh is the intellectual property of Kazuki Takahashi and Konami, and is being used in this fanfiction for fan purposes only. No infringement or disrespect is intended by this fanfiction.

.

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* * *

**Face, Voice, Hands: 5**  
_by Animom_

* * *

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"Jounouchi, would you mind unpacking the shipments that just arrived?" Sugoroku's voice floated into the storeroom. "I think I need some of those booster packs for these orders I'm putting together."

"Sure thing." Jounouchi shut off the circular saw and pulled off his safety goggles.

.

He'd told them the truth – that he'd sat with Kaiba. When Yugi had said, "He seemed worse off this year than ever before," he'd said, "I thought so too."

He was glad he had arranged to remodel the Game Shop while Yugi and Anzu were off visiting her parents. Repairing the roof, repainting the upstairs bedrooms, modernizing the tiny kitchen, and building custom storage cabinets for the back rooms kept him too busy most of the time to think of anything outside of the work at hand. Which was good, because the painful truth was that it becomes easier and easier to be patient about something once your hopes of it happening start to die.

And then, the same day he'd accepted that he'd run out of projects long before he got any answer from Kaiba, the pale gray envelope, postmarked from downtown Domino, had arrived. The folded paper inside said "Game Shop," and a date and time.

Two days later, shortly before sunrise, he'd waited on the curb in front of the Game Shop. A modest sedan had pulled up. Jounouchi grinned as he recognized the driver.

"Hey Noroshi," he said. "Nice hat."

"Thank you." Noroshi said. "I have a letter for you. I will drive while you read?"

"He couldn't have just mailed it?" Jounouchi got into the front passenger seat.

"Certain habits are not easily set aside," Noroshi said as he pulled smoothly away from the curb.

"I guess." Jounouchi opened the envelope. "I don't have to eat this when I'm done, do I?"

"Of course not, " Noroshi said, driving through the quiet streets. "That is _my_ job."

Jounouchi was about to squawk when he saw the older man's faint smile.

The letter was without salutation or signature. _Assuming that you haven't rescinded your impulsive offer to_ – and here Kaiba had written "stay at the mansion," drawn an emphatic line through the words, and then written "visit for a while" – _I assume you also realize that there will be certain repercussions if it becomes public knowledge that I have a male houseguest. _

Well, duh. Jounouchi stared out the window, watching as dawn's light began to warm the shuttered storefronts of downtown Domino. What was with Kaiba? Was this letter what it appeared, an unnecessary reminder to be discreet? Or perhaps simply a sign of the wariness that Noroshi had warned him about?

There was, of course, another interpretation – that it was an indication that nothing had changed since high school, that Kaiba was still a complete control freak who had to dominate every detail of everything around him, who cast every situation into a competition, and who wasn't happy unless he won.

Yet his gut told him no. He knew Kaiba could change, because he _had_ changed, even back then. Not that they'd all ever got to the point of being buddies, but Kaiba had gradually started to work with them instead of against them. Of course it all fell apart after Atem left and there was no dire peril to fight – Kaiba went to America, the rest of them finished high school – and by the time he came back it seemed more natural to stick to the old habit of leaving him alone. And then Mokuba died, but by then too much time had gone by for them to do anything other than go to the memorial every year and silently, guiltily offer too little, from too far away … until Jou had crossed the line at the memorial. Maybe, just maybe, Kaiba saw that as enough of an opening that this invitation, as surly as it sounded, was his way of reciprocating, of trying to re-connect as well.

_Well, only way to find out is to jump in._

"Okay, so here's the game plan," Jounouchi said. "Drop me off near the Game Shop. I'll pack a suitcase and meet you out front in ten or fifteen minutes. I'll tell Yuugi's Grandpa and my friends that I'm out of town for a few weeks, but won't say where."

"A few weeks?" Noroshi asked mildly.

"The note invites me to visit the mansion for a while. If we don't kill each other, maybe he'll decide to – " He wasn't sure what word to use.

"Extend your lease?" Noroshi offered as he smoothly braked to a stop at a traffic light.

" – that's when I'll tell my family and friends where I'm at. Maybe get the rest of my stuff. If it doesn't work, if he can't stand having company, we can just let it die quietly. Minimum of publicity."

Noroshi smiled faintly as he pulled to the curb of a quiet, tree-lined block a few streets from the Game Shop. "And no one will have to make any awkward explanations to anyone."

"Exactly. See ya in ten."

Jounouchi packed quickly, left a note for Yugi's grandfather, and was quietly re-locking the front door of the Game Shop when Noroshi pulled up. He felt nervous, but he put that down to being up so early on an empty stomach.

.

Kaiba met them at the door. His eyes flicked to take in the single suitcase, but he didn't comment.

"Where do I put this?" Jounouchi asked cheerfully.

"Follow me." Kaiba turned and started up the grand staircase.

Jounouchi noticed first that the casts were gone: then he noticed that Kaiba's partially-unbuttoned dress shirt and pleated slacks, while well-made, were years out of fashion and two sizes too large. The pants were only staying up because they were tightly belted.

And yet, somehow it still looked good, like every other ridiculous outfit that Kaiba had ever worn. Jounouchi almost laughed at the absurdity of it.

The guest bedroom Kaiba led him to was expensively furnished but impersonal, and looked so like a luxury hotel room that Jounouchi could have sent a "Wish You Were Here" picture of it to Yugi.

"Anything you need, or want changed, let someone on the staff know." Kaiba pushed down on the corner of the bed. "This mattress is average firmness, but they can change it out for whatever you want."

"Furniture and utilities are included in my rent, right?" Jounouchi said with mock seriousness. He needed to check Kaiba's tolerance for humor.

"Your – ?" Kaiba looked puzzled.

Jounouchi decided to let him off the hook. "Just kidding," he said. "Joke." He shrugged, and smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way.

"Ah," Kaiba said after a moment. "Whimsical _bonkotsu_ humor."

"My old nickname!" Jounouchi said as he unpacked his suitcase and put his clothes in the dresser. "I _knew_ you missed me."

"My research also indicated," Kaiba said, folding his arms, "that for unattached males in their twenties sharing living quarters, there is a direct correlation between – "

"Eh, we don't have to obey any statistics, do we?" Jounouchi said, tossing his shaving kit and shampoo into the bathroom sink.

"No." Kaiba sounded slightly puzzled.

"Okay then," Jounouchi clapped his hands, "What's for breakfast?"

.

As Kaiba heated food from the refrigerator (mentioning that Jounouchi could put in a request if he liked) Jounouchi had tried to think of something to talk about. Updates on the gang? Kaiba wouldn't be interested. Movies or television shows? He wasn't sure if Kaiba was the type. Talking about the food seemed lame, dueling was out since he had a hunch that Kaiba had stopped years ago, and asking about KaibaCorp was iffy (since he'd heard that Kaiba had all but stopped being involved in the day to day operation). He began to hope that Noroshi would show up to break the ice, but for once the famed Jounouchi luck failed.

They had eaten at the kitchen table in silence until, while staring at the pattern of light and dark tiles behind the stove, he'd had an inspiration. "Hey, do you think you'd be willing to teach me chess? I've always wanted to learn."

Kaiba had seemed on the verge of a sarcastic comment, but had said instead, "We can set up in the game room."

"Why not here? This table's good, right? And then we'll be close to the food."

With a snort, Kaiba had left the kitchen, to return a few minutes later with a battered wooden chess box and a few books. He unfolded the board, and then held up a short piece made of light wood. "This," he said solemnly, "is a pawn."

.

"Check."

"Not again!" Jounouchi clutched his hair. "How come every move I make leaves my king open?"

Kaiba shrugged. "Too many pieces lost at the beginning. Not enough left to defend if you're also trying to attack."

"Why didn't you stop me? Aren't you supposed to be teaching me?"

"Lose and learn," Kaiba said with a smirk.

"I'm sick of losing." Jounouchi slumped, his eyes darting from one piece to another. "Chess is _hard_._"_ He moved his knight to protect his king, only to see one of Kaiba's bishops slide across the board and gobble it up.

"Chess takes discipline, and has no random element. That's a disadvantage for a player like you."

"What does that mean, 'a player like me' ?" Jounouchi folded his arms, pouted. "You calling me stupid?"

"No. Inexperienced and undisciplined." Kaiba rested his chin on his hand. "Resign, then set up again."

"Why?"

"Mate in three."

"Fuuuuuuck!" Jounouchi swept the pieces aside and pounded his fists on the table. "I _hate_ this!"

"You were the one that asked to be taught," Kaiba said coldly, then stood and walked out of the kitchen.

"Where you going?" Jounouchi yelled after him. When there was no answer he hurried after Kaiba, down the hall to the front entrance. "Come back, you quitter!"

Kaiba, climbing the stairs to the second floor, didn't turn around or stop. "You've given up. It's pointless for me to sit there." His voice was as cold and contemptuous as it had ever been.

"Who says I've given up?" Jounouchi rushed up the stairs, took hold of Kaiba's arm, and twisted him around, registering the quickly repressed flash of fear in the blue eyes. "I got frustrated with it, is all." He let go of Kaiba's arm, shrugged. "I thought it would be fun. I didn't think I'd suck so much."

Kaiba eyed him, gave a derisive snort. "You've been playing for less than a day. I've been playing since I was three. What did you expect?"

"Yeah, and you beat Gozaburo when you were a kid, and he was a chess champ, right?"

"Grandmaster. He played carelessly that day."

"What, you cheated him?" Jounouchi grinned. "Put back a knight when he wasn't looking or something?"

Kaiba glared at him, then continued up the stairs without another word.

Jounouchi clomped back to the kitchen. It had been stupid to ask Kaiba to teach him; he'd never be good enough for anyone to enjoy playing with him. Why the hell did Kaiba want his company in the first place?

"To have someone to look down on," Jounouchi muttered as he poked through the fridge. He saw a container of _nikujaga_ in the back. He stuck it in the microwave and stared out the window.

A second later he got his jacket and shoes and slipped out the front door.

.

The walk did him good. At first he didn't think at all, just strode off his frustration; and then came a lot of jumbled images and thoughts, of chess and duels and his dad and how Yugi talked about being a husband and a father and the shelf at Mai's where he'd left his collection of geode rocks and and how confidently Kaiba moved his chess pieces. He felt calmer then, and walked slower, past flowerbeds that he doubted ever got looked at, past a small pond that plopped with fish. He followed the edge of the pond until he glimpsed a high stone and iron fence, topped with electrified barbed wire and security cameras. He followed the fence around the edge of the property, past a small ironwork gate that framed, in the distance, the little building with the Medusa-heads that he'd visited Kaiba in so many years ago. Then he walked though a forest and a half's worth of trees, finally coming out into a lawn edged with bushes still wet with the afternoon's rain. As he walked he shook the branches, laughing as he got wet. Finally, when the main house was in view and he was circling back around to the front door, the muscles of his thighs beginning to ping with fatigue, he wondered how often Kaiba had flashbacks to being raped, and whether he'd ever seen a therapist about it, and whether he would ever want to, be able to, do more than talk and play chess with people, and how sad it was if the answer to that was no.

Half-expecting the front door to be flung open just as he reached for the brass handle, he was surprised to find the entrance hall empty. Shedding his wet shoes and jacket, he padded in his soggy socks to the kitchen, which was also empty, and then down the hall to Kaiba's downstairs bedroom. Also empty.

He went back to the kitchen, reheated the _nikujaga,_ then sat at the kitchen table, eying the chess books as he started to eat.

After a few bites he took _Logical Chess Move by Move_ from the bottom of the pile. He turned it over to read the back. _'The only book that explains every move of every game.'_

He started to read.

.

He had just started on his second bowl of _nikujaga_ and the third game in the book when he was startled by someone saying, "Where the _fuck_ have you been?"

Kaiba stood in the doorway, furious.

Jounouchi shrugged. "I felt like punching something, but I took a walk instead." He turned a page. "Sounds like it's your turn for walkies."

Kaiba fumed. Jounouchi read and ate. Minutes ticked by.

"Which book are you reading?" The words sounded forced.

Jounouchi glanced over and saw that Kaiba's forehead had unfurrowed a little, so he held up the book to display the cover.

"Hn. Chernev." Kaiba came to stand next to the table. "I thought you'd left." There was the faintest trace of a sulky child in the tone.

Jounouchi closed the book. "Why would I do that?"

"I assumed you were bored." It was Kaiba's turn to shrug. "I have no idea how to entertain guests."

"I'm a guest? Will there be mint on my pillow tomorrow?"

Kaiba snorted, then pulled out his cell phone and pressed a button. "I found him," he said, then snapped the phone shut. Avoiding Jounouchi's look of curious surprise, he took a pitcher of water from the refrigerator and poured himself a glass. "Really, why are you even staying here?"

"What was that thing in school," Jounouchi asked, stroking his chin as if he was pondering, "that if something is one thing, and the second thing is a third thing, than the first and third are true?"

"A syllogism." Kaiba took a few sips, then poured the rest of the water down the sink.

"Yeah, that's the word. So here's mine." Jounouchi held up his index finger. "Number 1: _Jounouchi thinks that chess is difficult._ It's okay to think that, right? A lot of people say so. Or we could use _Jounouchi thinks chess is worth learning._"

"That 's not really – never mind, go on."

"Number two: _Kaiba is like chess._"

Seto, now leaning against the counter by the sink, blinked in surprise.

"Both are complicated, intimidating, and scare a lot of people off." Jounouchi pointed to the cabinets. "Now get a bowl and get your ass over here, and if you tell me the third line of my syllo-thing I'll share my _nikujaga_ with you. It's damn good, too, about a hundred times better than my mom used to make."

Kaiba took a bowl and spoon, then sat at the table. "Conclusion," he said uncertainly, "the third line is called the conclusion."

"So what's my syllo-conclusion then?"

_"Jounouchi thinks that Kaiba is difficult._"

"Or – ?" Jounouchi raised his eyebrows, making the _c'mon_ gesture.

"_Jounouchi thinks that Kaiba is worth learning,_" he said dutifully. A smile flashed by. "I'll do a syllogism for _you_ as soon as I think of something that's both ridiculous and," he hesitated, "comfortable."

"Damn right," Jounouchi said, "Now give me that bowl."

.

It was a start. They resumed chess lessons, but now when Jounouchi got frustrated they hiked around the estate. (Kaiba had a lingering limp, so the walking was good therapy.) Sometimes Kaiba talked about chess' great players and great matches; sometimes Jounouchi talked about carpentry; but just as often they walked in silence. It was sort of amazing, but rather than being a chore, spending time with Kaiba was actually becoming enjoyable.

As the days went by Jounouchi noticed that Kaiba had stopped flinching if they made accidental contact while sitting at the table or on their walks, and woke him every morning – usually earlier than Jounouchi would have liked – with a knock on the door, as if eager to start their day. Best of all, near the end of the first week – when the selections in the refrigerator were thinning out – Kaiba had responded to Jounouchi's grousing about food by going to the corner cabinet and, with a small smile, tossing him a beef bowl. (And then Jounouchi'd ruined the moment by saying, "Only if I can feed you some." Kaiba's face had lost all expression and Jounouchi mentally kicked himself.)

So, the days flew by and suddenly it was the afternoon of his fourteenth day at the mansion. He was lounging on his bed reading a book on chess openings.

There was a knock at the open door.

"S'open," Jounouchi said absently, turning a page in the book. "Wow, this Fried Liver Attack is pretty wild. Now I know what to do the next time you pull that Two Knights Defense move." It was too bad that friendships didn't have books of standard openings and strategies like chess did. He supposed that that was part of the fun, though: everyone was their own book.

Kaiba stood next to the bed. "I'm not surprised that style of play appeals to you."

"Yeah, that's me, Crazy Risky Gamble Guy." He closed the book and rolled onto his back. "So, what's up?"

"You," Kaiba glanced around the room. "You haven't packed."

"No."

"Do you plan to?"

"Do you want me to leave?"

"I didn't say that." Kaiba cleared his throat. "Noroshi said you planned to stay for only two weeks."

Jounouchi looked up at him.

"Or are you leaving that up to me to decide?" Kaiba asked.

"Maybe you can talk to the landlord," Jounouchi said with a smile, "and see if he wants to renew my lease?"

For an instant he was sure he'd made a mistake: Kaiba looked annoyed – and he said, "Well, I'll see what I can do."

.

_~ To be continued ~_

_._

_._

A/N: "Bonkotsu" is the epithet Kaiba uses to refer to Jounouchi in the Japanese: I believe that it means something like "the common man" or, idiomatically, "an average Joe." Ironically, I think Kaiba starts calling Jounouchi this after he thinks in episode 78 (after the end of the Death Duel) that Jounouchi is _not_ the average guy: "He'll take off his duel disk but didn't grab his own key? He's stupid enough to be admirable. A common duelist [bonkotsu] would never do it."

A very large, warm, thank you to **Akai**, who returns from _her_ six-year absence to beta for me once more. It is due to her insight and articulation about Jounouchi's character that I was able to finally see and rework some key aspects of this story.

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(18) 10 October 2011 ~ yet more tweaks


	6. Moving

Yu-Gi-Oh is the intellectual property of Kazuki Takahashi and Konami, and is being used in this fanfiction for fan purposes only. No infringement or disrespect is intended by this fanfiction.

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* * *

**Face, Voice, Hands: 6**  
_by Animom_

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Being Kaiba's roommate wasn't the thing that worried him, although he was pretty sure he really didn't know what he was getting into – partly because Kaiba was Kaiba, and partly because of what he'd been through. No, he was actually more worried about the right way to tell his friends he was going to be moving in with someone he'd said he couldn't stand. He didn't really want to present it as – as an on-site repair job – because that would be like breaking a confidence, but he knew that most people would assume that living together meant sleeping together.

And he wasn't thrilled about people thinking that, either.

"Should we pick up the rest of your stuff now?" Kaiba asked. "I'll drive."

"Really? Do you have any cool cars with trunk space?" Jounouchi asked as they went downstairs.

"Most likely." Kaiba opened a closet in the foyer and took out a nondescript tan coat, sunglasses, and a brimmed gray hat.

"Thomas Jerome Newton," Jounouchi said.

"Who?"

"Movie reference. Not important." At Kaiba's blank look he added, "Your disguise. Very 1930s gangster." Like the shirts and pants that Kaiba had worn during the past two weeks, the oversize coat was old enough to be considered "vintage." It occurred to Jounouchi, as he followed Kaiba through the empty mansion and into the huge garage, that the clothes had probably belonged to Seto's adoptive father Gozaburo.

The thought made his skin crawl a little, but mostly it made him sad. It was like … a symbol of how wrapped in the past Kaiba, was, trapped.

"So, your apartment, and then Mutou's Game Shop?" Kaiba said as he unlocked a dark blue Jaguar. "Anywhere else?"

"There might be one place more," Jounouchi said, pulling out his cell phone.

.

There wasn't much left to pack at Jounouchi's old apartment, as he'd taken most of his clothes and anything important with him while he stayed at the Game Shop. He folded his funeral suit and dress shoes into a box, tossed in his high school yearbook, tattered posters, and some mementos of his dad. There was no point in taking the few kitchen items or the tiny television: might as well leave them, along with the age-worn couch, for the next tenants. When he started to disconnect the wires of the ancient gray market stereo that he'd had since high school, Kaiba had raised an eyebrow.

"Sentimental value?"

Jounouchi shook his head with a sigh. "You're right." He patted the top of a battered, dusty speaker. "Farewell, old friend."

"Is that it?"

"From here, yeah. Cards, photo albums, and most of my clothes are at the Game Shop." He paused. "I wanted to make one more stop, but they're not home." He folded up the flaps of the box. "I guess I should try to book the back room at Musouka's for lunch sometime this week and tell everyone all at once."

"It's not," Seto said quietly at the door. "It's not because he's gone. You're not a replacement."

"I know," Jounouchi said. "and I'll make sure they do too." He wondered if either of them would ever say Mokuba's name, ever again.

"I still keep expecting – " Seto's voice was desolate, and he didn't finish.

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Jounouchi's cell phone rang as they were on route to the Game Shop. "_Moshi moshi –_ oh, heya! Thanks for calling back." He switched the phone to his other ear, so that the phone wouldn't pick up anything Kaiba might say. "I know this is really short notice, but can I swing by and get those – yeah. Ten minutes. Remind me where you are again?" He whispered to Kaiba, "Left at the next light, and south to Rosa Raisa Street." He nodded as he listened to the caller. "On my way."

"Wait here," he told Kaiba as they pulled up to a block of architecturally stunning pencil houses, the lighted windows of their upper floors making them look like a handful of candles. He ran up the narrow flagstone steps to the purple lacquered door of Number 38 and rang the bell.

When the door opened the blonde woman shoved a shoebox at him, then started to close the door.

"Whoa! That's it?"

She pulled the door open, her face stony. "What do you want me to say?" She looked over his shoulder, down to the twilight street, and jerked her head at the car. "He buy you that?"

"What? The car? No!" Jounouchi sputtered.

"You're gonna get a lot of that from now on, you know," she said. "People who think it's because he's rich. And for every person that says it to your face there will be twenty or a hundred saying it behind your back. You ready for that?"

He sighed heavily. "It's not like that, Mai."

She pursed her lips. "I know. Just – " She started to shut the door again, then stopped and said softly, "Just don't get your hopes up too much, _ne_? And don't forget me. Call sometimes."

"You bet." He felt himself tearing up. "Thank you, Mai. For _everything_."

"Oh, don't start that," she said, chiding. "Your – roommate probably doesn't like puffy red eyes."

He pecked her on the cheek, then ran back down the steps to the car.

Seto didn't ask about the dusty box, which made clinking, scratchy noises as Jounouchi got in. "Not telling, so don't ask," he said with a grin. "It's ... a housewarming gift."

"I see."

"Game Shop next. We ought to get there just as he's closing up."

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Sugoroku was sweeping the sidewalk. He glanced up as the Jaguar pulled to the curb, smiled as Jounouchi got out, and then frowned slightly. "Who is that driving, Jounouchi?"

Jounouchi hurried to head off an explosion. "Let's go inside and talk, Mr Mutou."

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After first convincing Yugi's grandfather that he wasn't being mind controlled or extorted, Jounouchi reminded Sugoroku that he was, in fact, an adult capable of making his own decisions. Once the grumbling was done and the gray eyebrows had relaxed their scowl a little, Jounouchi made him promise that to keep the news a secret until he could talk to Yugi and the others.

He ran upstairs to pack the rest of his things. As he folded jeans and t-shirts into a box (he'd forgotten to bring his lone suitcase with him) he heard Sugoroku's voice demand loudly, "What are _you_ doing here?"

"There's something I wanted to discuss with you." _Kaiba?_ Jounouchi swept his cards and photos into the box, then hurried downstairs with it to referee.

Sugoroku stood behind the counter, his demeanor icy. "Sorry, I have no more rare cards for you to tear up."

Kaiba, recognizable now without hat or sunglasses, took a deep breath. "I can't change what happened. All I can do is offer you this." He reached inside his coat.

"I'm not taking _anything_ from the likes of you," Yugi's grandfather was rapidly approaching outrage.

But instead of a checkbook Kaiba pulled out a silver card case, which he opened and laid on the counter. "Not even this?"

Sugoroku glanced at the card in the case then folded his arms. "No. I don't expect someone like you to understand this, but the Blue Eyes you destroyed was given to me by a dear friend. It wasn't the _card_ I treasured, it was the memory of the friend who gave it to me."

"Would you be willing to show me the card?"

"How do you know I still have it?"

"If it was as important to you as you say, then, torn or not, you would have kept it." There was more than a hint of the old insolence in Kaiba's tone of voice.

Jounouchi set his box on the counter. Kaiba didn't look at him; instead, he watched as Yugi's grandfather took his keys out with a rattle, unlocked a small door, twirled the combination of the safe, and then with a clatter set his treasure chest on the counter. He reverently removed the taped Blue Eyes card from its protective sleeve, then placed it with a frown into Kaiba's outstretched hand.

"Do you know the story of this card?" Kaiba asked, holding the card close to peer at it. "Do you know that this one is the very first Blue Eyes made? It's the rarest of the four."

"I'm not selling it!" Sugoroku sounded belligerent again. "Give it back!"

"You misunderstand," Kaiba said, annoyed. He put the card on the counter. "I'm not trying to buy your card. I am offering to have it repaired." At Sugoroku's snort he added frostily, "And to prove my goodwill, I'll leave these as hostages." He picked up the card case, upended it, and fanned out the three cards it contained.

His three Blue Eyes White Dragons.

"Hm." Sugoroku eyed Kaiba's cards. "How do you know mine was first? What makes it different from the other three?"

"Do you have a magnifying glass?" As Sugoroku took one from beneath the counter Kaiba touched the taped card with his fingertip. "Parts of the dragon's body are slightly raised. You've noticed the ridge that runs along the neck?"

Sugoroku bent over the card, studying it with the glass. "I always though that was the way it was printed. Embossed. No?"

"No." Kaiba shook his head. "These four cards were hand-made by Pegasus. That alone makes them rarer than the mass-produced versions, but to make each one truly unique he used a clear varnish to seal in three human hairs. Only two people know the details."

"Ha, I thought I'd just got some stray gray hairs in the way when I taped it mine up after you tore it." Sugoroku peered closer. "But I pulled them out and threw them away."

Kaiba shook his head. "It doesn't matter. The restorer can replace them."

"Oh? With what?"

"With three strands of Pegasus' hair. From my cards."

Sugoroku's eyes opened wide. "Pegasus' hair?" He held the magnifying glass over Kaiba's Blue Eyes.

"Yes." Kaiba picked one up. "Two of the cards mix my hair with one or two strands from the artist." He tilted the card so that its surface flashed under the overhead lights. "In the right light you can see the brown twisted with silver. The third card is three strands of my hair alone."

Jounouchi shivered. Was there no end to Pegasus' weirdness?

"I … see." Sugoroku stood up straight, suddenly solemn. "Well, thank you for the history lesson." He put the magnifying glass away. "Your offer is generous, but I'll keep my card as it is. As I said before, cherished memories are more important to me than paper and ink."

Kaiba lifted his chin; his face was hard, angry. "Including the memory that I tore it in half? And that my duel with you put you in the hospital? Are those cherished memories as well?"

"For now, yes," Sugoroku said mildly, picking up the taped Blue Eyes and putting it back into the plastic sleeve. "Sooner or later, young man, the press will find out that Jounouchi is living with you." He put his treasure box back into the safe. "They will jump to conclusions, and those that don't approve of those conclusions will attack you and your company. What will you do when that happens?"

"I'll tell the press that it isn't anyone's business who stays with me as a house-guest," Kaiba said crisply.

"They won't buy that."

"I can't control what people think. Jounouchi?" Kaiba was finally looking at him. "Is there anything else to carry?"

"No, this is it."

"Katsuya is like a grandson to me," Sugoroku said sternly. "If you – "

"Yes," Kaiba said impatiently, scooping up his three Blue Eyes from the counter and putting them back in the case. "If anything happens to him you and Yugi and Honda and Masaki and Jounouchi's hundreds of other friends will hunt me down. I would expect no less." Then, clearly still angry, he shoved his fists into his coat pockets and stared at the floor.

Jounouchi realized at that moment that, in addition to chess-teacher Kaiba and tentative friend Kaiba, he was going to have to make room in his head for controlled-implosion Kaiba too: in fact, he had a feeling that there could wind up being a entire shelf of new Kaibas, in between the emotionless husk he'd seen at the memorial and the abrasive CEO-duelist he'd known in high school.

Sugoroku was studying Kaiba as well. He nodded once, then turned to Jounouchi. "So I'm losing my carpenter? It's too bad. You've done good work."

"Nah, you can't get rid of me so easily," Jounouchi said. "I'll be back later in the week to finish up the storeroom cabinets and paint the trim in the nursery. Maybe I'll swing by after my lunch with Yugi and Anzu and Honda."

"You're only telling those three?"

"Well," He glanced at Kaiba. "I've ... already talked to my sister. And Mai."

"Hn." There was just the faintest twitch of a smile on the downcast face. "So impatient."

"He always has been!" Sugoroku said, his hearty tone offering an olive branch. He came around the counter and squeezed Jounouchi in a bear hug, whispering, "Good luck, Jounouchi. Be careful."

"I will, Gramps, " Jounouchi said, watching as Kaiba picked up the box and began to walk to the door, "no need to worry about that."

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_~ To be continued ~_

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A/N: Many thanks again to **Akai** for betaing this chapter: her comments helped tighten the focus, sharpen the character dynamics, and stopped me from making an extremely huge OOC mistake.

The backstory of the original four Blue Eyes cards, held by Kaiba and Sugoroku via Arthur Hawkins, is completely my own creation. That story will be elaborated in either _Impressions_ or _Beholden_.

(13) 19 April 2011 ~ edit BEWD card backstory


	7. A Convenient Distance

Yu-Gi-Oh is the intellectual property of Kazuki Takahashi and Konami, and is being used in this fanfiction for fan purposes only. No infringement or disrespect is intended by this fanfiction.

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**Face, Voice, Hands: 7**  
_by Animom_

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He wished he had a cigarette.

Well, no he didn't, not really – he'd given up smoking his senior year after he overheard some girls talking about how "gross" it was to kiss a smoking boyfriend – but he did miss the way that nicotine used to steady his jangly nerves.

Not that he had anything to be nervous about. Nope, telling his three best friends that he was moving in with a guy that at least one and maybe two of them couldn't stand wasn't going to be stressful at all.

He had been standing outside of Musouka's for ten minutes now, long enough that the owner of the flower shop across the street was beginning to look at him suspiciously, as if he thought he was being cased. Jounouchi exhaled with determination, yelled, "Your orchids are safe from me!" and then ducked through the restaurant's brass-and-glass door.

The hostess told him that his party was already seated, and he looked at his watch in a panic. Was he late? But no, he was assured that his guests had been seated early since the room was free.

He exhaled deeply again, then followed the hostess down the hall to the private dining room.

"It's about time," Honda said mildly, studying the menu. "Some of us have real jobs."

"Write it off as a business lunch."

"He'd have to talk about business," the very-pregnant Anzu said, watching Yugi blow up an air cushion which she then took and sat on with a happy sigh.

"Better?" Yugi asked her.

"Oh, _much_," she said blissfully. "You are a _god_ among men."

"Again?" Jounouchi said with a grin, then asked as he sat down, "So Honda, how's business?"

"It's alright." He looked around. "No one else coming today?"

"Er, no, I don't think so," Jounouchi replied. "Should there be?" He wondered if it would look bad that he had come alone.

"I _told_ you," Honda crowed at Anzu. "I _told_ you this wasn't about Kaiba! Pay up!"

"Well, actually," Jounouchi said, rubbing the back of his neck, "It – hey, what do you mean, 'pay up' ?"

"What do _you_ mean by 'Well, actually' ?" Anzu asked Jounouchi, then pointed at Honda with glee. "_I_ was right! Ha-_ha_!"

"Wait – you two had _bets?_ On what?"

"I _told_ him, " Anzu said, nodding as Honda morosely handed her several bills. "I said, _Jou and Kaiba got together after the memorial service, you'll see_ and he was all, _No way, no way!_"

"Well, hang on," Jounouchi felt a bit deflated that he hadn't had a chance to make a grand announcement. "Depending on how you define 'together', you might have to split the bet."

"Meaning?" Anzu held the money out of Honda's grab.

"I'm moving in to keep him company. As a roommate."

"Really." Honda looked furious and suspicious.

"Well, that still counts," Anzu said, tucking her winnings into her purse. "In the same mansion still counts as together."

"You can't be the judge of that, Masaki," Honda grumbled. "You have a vested interest."

"Of _course_ I do. Winning the bet and this new hemorrhoid cushion will be the highlights of my week. Are you planning to deny a pregnant woman her meager joys?"

Yugi, smiling as he read the menu, looked at Jounouchi with a small eye-roll.

"How did _you_ bet, Yugi?" Jounouchi asked. "Kaiba or no-Kaiba?"

"He didn't," Anzu said. "He said couldn't because he had insider information."

"Insider?"

"Atem," Yugi said quietly. "So, are we ready to order?"

.

Honda didn't eat his meal so much as torture it, his eyes on his knife as he cut everything into tinier and tinier triangles while Jounouchi told them a slightly edited version of what had happened since the memorial service.

"Chess, long walks – sounds like you're clicking." Anzu was beaming as if she'd set them up herself. "The beginning of a romance is such fun."

"Anzu! I keep telling you, it's _not_ a romance." Jounouchi said. "It's barely even a friendship. I'm just – there to help him get out of his depression."

"So you're a paid companion?" Honda said. "There's a word for that, you know."

"Not exactly – hey!" Jounouchi glared at Honda.

"Well, I think it's sweet," Anzu said. "I bet you're doing him a lot of good."

"Sounds like Jou's _doing him_ all right," Honda muttered, setting his knife on his plate with a clang, then glowering when Anzu slapped the back of his head.

"It's too bad the mansion's so far out of the city," Anzu said, making a wry sad-face as she tried to change the subject. "We'll hardly ever see you."

"Well, holidays?" Yugi asked, taking a small forkful of Anzu's dessert. "Maybe after a while you can talk him into hosting some parties or get-togethers out there?"

"Yeah right. Kaiba open up his house to us?" Honda was now disemboweling the unlucky rolls left in the bread basket.

"Jeez, lighten up, Hon," Jounouchi said. He was going to have to talk to Honda one-on-one later and see what was bugging him so much. "Yeah, Yuug, I'm sure I can talk him into some stuff once he's feeling more social. It's just … I don't have any idea yet when he'll be ready to do that. He's still really down."

"Who else knows you're out there?" Yugi asked.

"Shizuka, Mai, your Grampa."

"_Grampa_ knows?"

"Yeah, I told him when Kaiba came with me to get my stuff from the Game Shop a few days ago. He offered to repair the Blue Eyes card he tore up."

This seemed to shock everyone more than anything he'd said so far, which Jounouchi found oddly satisfying. "He even tried to leave his own three Blue Eyes cards as hostages."

"No kidding." Yugi shook his head. "That's – wow, _seriously_?"

"It's not that big a deal," Honda said sullenly, out of food to abuse. "He doesn't duel anymore anyhow."

Anzu smacked his arm. "So what? Those cards were like part of his soul. Even if he doesn't duel it's still a big deal, symbolically." She looked at Jounouchi and nodded firmly. "It _is_ a big deal, no matter what this moron says. Sounds like Kaiba-kun has _already_ changed, thanks to you."

"Thanks, 'zu." Jounouchi was relieved that at least two of his friends had faith in him.

The waiter appeared then with the check, and Honda snatched it, grumbling, "Business lunch is on me."

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Once the check was settled Honda gruffly fist-bumped Jounouchi before going back to work, and Anzu went off to the ladies room.

As soon as she was out of earshot Jounouchi asked Yugi, "So … 'insider information' ? Kaiba talked to Atem about me?" He felt bad for prying, but his curiosity was stronger.

"Ah…not exactly. He – um, it's going to take a while to explain. Remember back when we were fighting Zorukh?"

"How could I forget that?"

"Well … until the four of us got there, Kaiba and Atem were fighting Zorukh together. And you know how when they fought as a team before, they fused Ultimate Dragon with Black Luster Soldier?"

Jounouchi nodded. "Master of Dragon Knight, yeah. I was always bummed I never got to see Atem do that."

"They did it again when they fought Zorukh, only this time the Millennium Scale let them combine with their monsters before the Polymerization. So the two of them were … kinda … _fused_ too."

Jounouchi raised his eyebrows, "Fused? You mean, fused like, er," he dropped his voice to a whisper, "_soul sex_ or something?" He had a brief twinge of envy.

Yugi looked everywhere but at Jounouchi. "Well, I'm not really sure. But anyhow, remember how Kaiba was when we first got on the boat?"

"Yeah, he was more of an ass than usual," Jounouchi said. "I was ready to throw him overboard."

"We all were, but before Atem went to his soul room so I could put together my deck, he told me not to be mad at Kaiba. When I asked why he said that he had shared Kaiba's mind and some of his memories during the fusion. He didn't let me see any of what he had seen: all he would say was that Kaiba had gone through terrible ordeals, complete betrayals by those close to him, and that his heart and soul were more scarred than any of us knew." Yugi held up his hand. "By the way, if you ever find out what he was referring to, don't tell me." When Jounouchi nodded he continued. "Well, Atem said that the two people whose friendship might be able to help Kaiba-kun recover were me … and you."

Jounouchi's throat tightened. "Helluva guy, your other self."

Yugi nodded and fiddled with a button on his jacket. "Yeah. I've thought about it a lot since then, because at first it didn't make sense. In high school I was the one who always tried to be friends with Kaiba-kun, and he seemed to respect Atem, but you two were always insulting and goading each other – "

"Hey! I never goaded!' At Yugi look Jounouchi shrugged. "Yeah, I goaded."

" – and finally it just popped into my head that maybe you guys fought because Kaiba _did _like you in some weird snarly mad-dog kind of way, and pushing your buttons was the only way he could show it. So I guessed that maybe when Atem was joined with Kaiba he saw Kaiba's feelings for us, for you, that Kaiba wanted to be friends or … you know, whatever. And then I realized that as far as we know Kaiba-kun has never gone out with anyone, well, it all suddenly made sense." He glanced up as Anzu came back down the hall. "Not that anyone would look at him and immediately think _gay_, but – " He looked stricken. "Oh, wait, I didn't mean to be stereotyping, it's just that I know that not all gay guys are as flashy as Otogi."

"Otogi's gay?" Jounouchi asked with mock horror. "I'm shocked!"

Yugi made a face. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah I do. And thanks for telling me about that Atem thing. It makes me think I'm not entirely crazy for thinking I can help him."

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If he was surprised at how easily two-thirds of his friends had taken the news, he was even more surprised that the phone call he got as he was working on the cabinets at the Game Shop – the last of the carpentry work – was Kaiba asking how the lunch had gone. "They took it okay," he said. "Yugi and Anzu were a little bummed that I'll be too far out of the city to be their backup babysitter." He checked his watch. "Hey, do you mind if I crash at the Game Shop until I finish up the last of these projects? I'll let you know the minute I get done so you can send a car to get me."

There was a long pause before Kaiba agreed. Jounouchi quickly said, "See ya soon," but the call had already disconnected.

The next few days passed quickly. Jounouchi painted the last of the woodwork in the nursery and sanded, stained, and varnished the custom cabinets. He ate dinners with Sugoroku, drawing out the old man's more ribald stories; for lunch he walked the ten blocks to Blue Lantern Noodles. The noodle shop was a family run place that was one of several small businesses tucked at street level beneath a seven story factory-warehouse that had been for sale for years. The owner was asking an outrageous price for the parcel, because the other half of the block, once an unpaved parking lot for the factory workers, had been turned into a tiny park and community garden. Jounouchi loved to sit under the trees, listening to old ladies insult each others vegetables while their grand-kids ran around the bushes pretending to be Pokémon.

The third day that he went to the restaurant there was a change. Mentor, the old man who ran the Blue Lantern, was dejected. "Eat my noodles while you can, my friend," he said. "Gonna be gone from here soon."

"Gone? Why?" Jounouchi asked, handing over most of the rest of the few bills left in his wallet.

"For Sale sign is taken away. Big rich men gonna tear all this whole block down." Mentor shook his head. "Cut down the trees. Bury the park. Sad sad days."

"What are you going to do?" Jounouchi asked. It really sucked the way people's lives and livelihoods got tossed aside just so some greedy corporation could shove in another useless building.

"My sister, she have a hair shop. Maybe I go work for her for a while. Or maybe I go back to my beautiful home isles."

"Well, take care man," Jounouchi said, dropping the rest of his money into the tip jar. It wasn't much, but he was painfully aware that he was now lucky enough to be in a situation that made it unlikely that he would ever go hungry.

Between that thought and the bad news, it suddenly didn't feel right to sit under a tree eating noodles when he knew that soon the old ladies' vegetables and the wild Pokémons' bushes would be dug up to make a big ugly hole for a skyscraper. As he sat on a bench outside the Blue Lantern and poked morosely at his food he saw a somewhat familiar disguise with a very familiar stride coming toward him. "Heya. I was gonna call soon. I'll be done this afternoon."

"I have something to show you," Kaiba said. It was hard to tell under the hat and the sunglasses, but he actually seemed to be in good mood, so Jounouchi bit back his thoughts about noodle-makers and heartless developers and followed.

They walked around the block, past the coffee shop and the tiny bookstore, and when Kaiba turned into an alley that ran though the middle of the looming factory building, toward four men in dark suits and sunglasses standing by a limo, the scene looked enough like something out of _The Matrix _that Jounouchi felt a wisp of worry.

Kaiba ran up the steps to the loading dock area. One of the suits unlocked a heavy metal door and a second suit pulled out a flashlight, lighting the way down a short hallway to a rickety looking freight elevator with a metal mesh cage.

"After you," one of the suits said.

Kaiba stabbed a large, dirty yellow button in the elevator, and they began a noisy ascent. "Loading dock and ground floor warehouse area become a parking garage," he said, ignoring Jounouchi's wide-eyed stare. "Two and three converted to an arcade and dueling arena, which will be available to the public. Living quarters for staff, maybe some large meeting rooms, on four and five. Six will be storage and a security barrier, and seven …" He reached in his coat, pulled out a rolled blueprint, and handed it to Jounouchi, continuing to narrate as they stepped out of the elevator and onto the dusty, glass-littered concrete floor of the warehouse's top floor. "Two bedrooms and a home office at each end. In the center – kitchen, dining area, elevator access, library, home theater, workout room. Security elevator to the helipad on the roof from the northeast bedroom."

"Holy shit."

"Building inspectors just approved the plans. Renovation and construction can start immediately." He folded his arms. "If you think it will it do."

"Holy _fucking_ shit!"

"I'll take that as a yes." He nodded at the two suits, who stepped into the freight elevator and pressed the down button, leaving them alone.

"So _you're_ the one who bought the block! The shops – are they staying?" Jounouchi could hardly believe it. "And the garden in the back? And the Pokémon bushes?"

"I suppose. Construction workers need someplace to eat, and get coffee, and … whatever else is down there."

"What made you do this?"

Kaiba was looking at him, but with the sunglasses and the hat it was impossible to tell what sort of expression he had. After a minute or two he turned away, saying in a bored, off-hand way, "Well, it's become inconvenient to keep sending drivers for you. And those friends of yours keep calling. I don't pay Noroshi to take personal messages."

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Jounouchi had understood back in high school that Kaiba had a sort of split personality. One side could be glimpsed when Kaiba interacted with Mokuba, and that was the real Seto – who he was at his deepest, most genuine core.

But that guy was generally masked by the public persona Kaiba had developed as a result of his years as Gozaburo's heir, an arrogant, self-sufficient loner who had no use for companionship. It made sense to Jounouchi that whenever they went someplace public together, Kaiba barely acknowledged his presence, when necessary introducing him as "an old acquaintance." When a reporter finally asked the inevitable questions about Kaiba's personal life and living arrangements during a press conference, Kaiba had answered with a crisp, "Not relevant. Next question?"

The ironic flip side of this, however, was that the public Kaiba was more at ease around him than the private one was. Jounouchi understood, of course, that he and Kaiba would never arrive at the level of comfortable, completely natural brotherly physicality that he and Honda had, but he wondered how long it would take before Kaiba stopped tensing up whenever Jounouchi accidentally touched him or stood too near.

And yet, over time, the friendship was in fact deepening, pushed along by a series of small surprises. Such as Kaiba saying only, when Jounouchi broached the subject of continuing to do carpentry and remodeling projects, "Will word of mouth bring in enough clients keep you busy?" Or Kaiba agreeing to watch a movie with him, sitting without any noticeable flinching for two hours while Jounouchi provided running commentary on movie history and popular culture – and then two weeks later handing him a preview copy of a movie that Jounouchi had talked about, mumbling gruffly that with advance notice he _might_ be able to rearrange his schedule if Jounouchi wanted a regular movie night – and adding that he could invite his "noisy friends" if he felt he _had_ to.

It was funny, really, how it had all been sort of symbolized by Kaiba's reaction to Jounouchi's housewarming gift. The day that they moved into the penthouse Jounouchi had wrapped his collection of geodes in financial newspapers, adorned the package with bows made from old computer magazines, and plopped it in Kaiba's lap. At the brunet's puzzled look he said, "Remember when I came to the Weyr? And I told you that you were like a geode? Well, after that, I started collecting these. And – I dunno, now that I'm here it seems right that _you_ should have them."

Kaiba seemed to find the sight of the dusty rocks offensive, for he had jumped up and hurried out of the room. Jounouchi, disappointed, had sat and wondered what he had done wrong – until Kaiba returned a few minutes later with a beef bowl container. Inside, nestled among the uncooked rice, was a small ivory ball carved with a dragon, a _netsuke_.

"Wow, Kaiba, this is – really nice." Jounouchi wasn't sure what to say; both the gift and the gesture seemed so out of character. Romantic even. Not what he would have expected at all.

"If you don't – " Kaiba scowled and reached to take the bowl back.

"I didn't say I didn't," Jounouchi said, holding the _netsuke_ tightly. "You got a chain or a shoelace I can string it on?"

"Hn. A shoelace? So low-class."

Jounouchi had worn the _netsuke_ constantly ever since: under his clothes when they went out, on top of his shirt when they were home, waking and sleeping. Mindful of Kaiba's comment that he had always wondered what was inside – and Jounouchi was certain that he _could_ get it open if only whatever ancient goo was holding the halves together would dissolve – he let it get wet in the shower and in the pool, sweaty when he worked out, and licked it at every opportunity. To Kaiba's disgusted grimaces he usually explained that spit was Mother Nature's Universal Solvent.

"You should take it off when you sleep," Kaiba had said off-handedly once, his face completely expressionless in the blue glow from his computer. "It might choke you someday."

"I'll take my chances," Jounouchi had replied.

All was rewarded one day, almost a year after they had moved into Blue Lantern Tower – Kaiba had, without fanfare or discussion, made Jou's nickname for the building official – on one of the nights that the gang's boisterous enthusiasm, noisy children, and choice of video games had driven Kaiba to retreat to his office instead of sitting quietly on the periphery. Jounouchi, perched on the arm of the couch watching Yugi and Ryou slaughter Zerglings, had made such a habit of trying to open the _netsuke_ that, as usual, he was fiddling with it without thinking.

He almost fell over when he felt the halves move slightly.

Excusing himself from his friends, he hurried down the hall and then into Kaiba's office. To the raised eyebrow he responded by holding the _netsuke_ close and then twisting until they both heard the faint gritty hiss. He handed it to Kaiba, then sat on the edge of the desk.

Kaiba opened it, looked inside the halves. Blinked. Swallowed. Smiled faintly.

"Well?"

"Hn. Seems it was fated after all." He put the halves back together, then returned the ivory ball to Jounouchi with a solemn face.

Jounouchi held the _netsuke_ under Kaiba's desk lamp and opened it again. The soft yellow light illuminated the incomparable skill of the long-dead artist who had carved, inside the dragon, a plump, tasseled pillow on which a tiny _shiba inu_ was curled in sleep.

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_~ The End ~_

_._

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**Author's Notes**

A thank you to **Silver Dragon Golden Dragon** and my beta **Rroselavy** for making me think about what, if anything, Atem knew of Kaiba's ordeal, and how much he would discuss with Yugi.

A thank you to **Ryuukokoro** for talking me through a dark night of the soul and restoring some of my faith, and for suggesting a wonderful, subtle change to the contents of the _netsuke_.

(16) 10 October 2011


	8. Epilogue

Yu-Gi-Oh is the intellectual property of Kazuki Takahashi and Konami, and is being used in this fanfiction for fan purposes only. No infringement or disrespect is intended by this fanfiction.

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* * *

**Face, Voice, Hands: Epilogue**  
_by Animom_

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Complacency. It's a hazard of living with someone for a while: up close, you sometimes forget some of their key qualities.

It generally doesn't end well.

"When do you plan to explain what's going on?" Kaiba was sitting in a deep chair in the central "family area" of the loft. Everything about him set off alarms. His body language – arms folded, legs tightly crossed – his expression – scowling, with hard eyes – and his tone of voice – absolutely calm in the way he only was when he was beyond furious.

"Could you take 'later' as an answer?" Jounouchi asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Nah, I guess not." He had planned for this, of course, but had half-hoped he wouldn't have to put it into place. He should have known that those qualities that made Kaiba a genius – his powers of observation, his constantly churning brain – would apply to his personal life as well. "What tipped you off?"

Kaiba sighed, and for an instant he looked unhappy; then the emotion was wiped. "You're no good at being secretive. Hanging up the phone when I come into the room? Weekend trips that you haven't offered to explain? Three large cash withdrawals from the joint account?"

"Yeah, that's not a good list." Jounouchi looked at the floor. "I suppose you know what I've been up to?"

"Sending time with your old gang member. Including staying overnight at his apartment."

"You had me followed?" Well, of course he would have. Kaiba still had his guard up, even after all this time.

"Not right away," Kaiba said, and unfolded his arms enough to let Jounouchi see a folded sheaf of papers. "But when it became clear that you weren't going to tell me what was going on …"

"It's not what you think."

"Oh? And what, exactly, do I think?" The emotion was starting to come through now.

"You tell me," Jounouchi said. He knew that Kaiba was – well, whatever the opposite of demonstrative was – but apparently there was a lot more possessiveness behind his indifferent act than Jounouchi had estimated. He was surprised (and a little flattered) that Kaiba was acting this way, but mostly he was sad that it took this kind of a situation to get Kaiba to display anything resembling concern. It scared Jounouchi a little, too, because he had a feeling that Kaiba was capable of the _You belong to me_ thinking that stalkers in the movies and TV always seemed to have. "You're the one with the over-active imagination."

"And _then_," Kaiba shook the paper. "Human Resources tells me you've had _four_ doctor's appointments in the last six weeks. And lab work. And you changed the password on your computer. What the hell is going on?"

"Didn't I tell you? I think I'm _pregnant_," Jounouchi said, clasping his hands and using his best falsetto. "It's a miracle, isn't it? I wanted to hold off saying anything you until I was sure, but I can't help myself – Honda and I have been shopping for baby furniture on-line!"

Kaiba was across the room in an instant, shaking him. "Stop fucking around, Jou!"

"Lighten up!" Jou said, laughing. "Look, Kaiba, it's no big deal. I was waiting for the right time to tell you, which I guess is now. Now that you've gone back to work, I decided to finally do something I've wanted to for a long time."

"Which is?"

Jounouchi shrugged. "Travel. You're always telling me it's okay if I spend money, so I finally did."

"Alone?" Kaiba let go of him, and his expression changed from anger to something like bewildered hurt. "You're going to travel alone?"

"No, I'm going with Honda." Jounouchi held up his hand. "I figured it was okay, since it'll be hiking and canoeing and camping. Trail mix and tons of bugs and using leaves for toilet paper. Not your kind of thing."

Kaiba turned away. He stooped to pick up the papers he'd dropped, and left the room. A moment later the door to his office closed – not slammed, though, Jounouchi noticed with a wry smile. Mister Ultimate Control had not left the building.

Jounouchi waited a few minutes before going down the hall and carefully trying the doorknob to Kaiba's office. It was locked, which was good. He went to his room, turning off his cell phone and setting it on his desk. From a drawer he took his passport and a cheap prepaid white plastic cell phone; then he grabbed an already-packed duffel bag from the back of his closet and tiptoed to the elevator.

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He walked a few blocks before hailing a cab. When he reached the address he'd given the cabbie – a free clinic – he waited until the cab had pulled away before he went in through the clinic's bathroom, changed his clothes, donned sunglasses and a baseball cap, and then slipped out the back door into the alley. As he walked the last two blocks to his destination he pulled out the white plastic phone. "Head's up – I had to tell him … yeah, thanks man … yeah, I hope so too."

Satisfied that he hadn't been followed, he opened a battered gray metal door set into the crumbling brick wall of an old warehouse. Inside, next to a nondescript black van, two men in sunglasses and a blonde woman stood waiting.

The woman hugged and kissed him. "So, we finally ready to do this?"

"I couldn't be any readier," Jounouchi said, tossing his duffel in the van, then climbing in to sit next to the neatly-stacked piles of equipment as one of the men opened the warehouse's loading dock door.

"Was it bad?" she asked from the front seat of the van as they drove out into the alley.

"Not too. He'll get over it." _I hope._

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The little white plastic phone was ringing.

"Heya, Yug," Jounouchi said, twisting around in the sleeping bag he was sharing with Honda. Through the mosquito netting he could see that it was almost dawn: it was just like Yugi to get up in the middle of the night to make sure that his call came at a convenient hour for Jounouchi. "What's up?"

Yugi was reporting that Kaiba had discovered that Jounouchi had left his regular cell phone behind. "So he called me to ask where you were."

"And you gave him the letter?"

"Yeah. I said I'd mail it, but he insisted on coming over right away to pick it up." Yugi sighed. "He looked horrible when he came by. He asked me some weird questions, and I think he's been making himself sick imagining all sorts of horrible scenarios. Not that I asked him about it," Yugi added quickly, "it's just what it seemed like to me. I still think you should have told him."

"Did he read it right away?" Jounouchi was not going to go over this territory again.

"I think so. He went back to the car, but it was a while before he drove away." Yugi paused. "Jou, I just hope he doesn't do anything stupid before you get back."

Jounouchi hoped so too. The letter said that Jounouchi needed a break, that he'd left his cell phone behind so that his location couldn't be traced, and that he'd keep in touch. _This roommate thing probably isn't gonna work for me, long term. I have to figure out what I need,_ he'd written, _and if that can fit with what you need._ Jounouchi was hoping that the letter would stall Kaiba long enough for all questions to be answered.

And if not, he could only hope that the trail would be cold by the time Kaiba started hunting him down.

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In the end, the thing everyone thought would be the hardest – for Anzu to talk Kaiba into letting them use his place as the location of a party for Yugi – turned out to be simple.

In the weeks following Jounouchi's departure, the gang's movie and game nights had tapered off, as Kaiba's idea of "hosting" was to unlock the door when Yugi, Anzu, Ryou and random others arrived, disappear into his office until Yugi knocked to say that they were leaving, and then nod goodnight, barely hiding his eagerness to lock the door again after they left.

When his initial response to the party had been a flat "No," the canny Anzu had pleaded, "I know you're not feeling that social while your roomate's gone, but birthday celebrations mean a lot to Yugi. I'd handle it, but I'm due any day."

Kaiba hadn't said anything for almost a minute, and then asked, "How many guests?"

"Oh," she said casually, "A few dozen. Definitely no more than – forty. Can your place hold that many?"

"I have no idea. Most likely. Tell me the date and what people will want to drink. My caterer will take care of the rest. Should there be cake?"

He had asked so solemnly she had almost giggled. "No, Kaiba-kun, I'll take care of the cake. And various people have offered to bring … various things." She crossed her fingers; Yugi would kill her if she gave it away. "I'd like to do it as soon as possible, since Yugi's birthday has already passed. What's your schedule like in the next week?"

"Evenings are entirely open," he said.

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The party had been going for about an hour. Cake had been eaten. Yugi had opened a few gifts. The guests had broken into clumps. One group was gathered around the couch, video-gaming. A smaller, older group had gone to sit in the deep leather club chairs of the small library room and talk. A number of couples had snuck into the darkened home theater room across the hall from the library. A board game was going at the kitchen table, and various pairs sat in chairs or on the floor playing Duel Monsters.

Kaiba sat on a barstool at the far end of the kitchen. He'd ensconced himself there as soon as Yugi and Anzu arrived, letting them take over the party as he sipped ginger ale and stymied Otogi's attempts at conversation with one-word answers. He seemed slightly surprised to see Noroshi arrive with Jounouchi's sister, but he neither acknowledged nor questioned them.

Yugi's phone rang. The father-to-be moved through the crowd, toward the hallway in the middle of the condo where the private elevator from the sixth floor was located. When he finished the call he nodded to Anzu, who clapped her hands and called out loudly for everyone's attention.

"As you know," she said, "We're here today to celebrate Yugi's birthday – "

"A little late!" Otogi called out.

" – Yes, a little late," she said, waggling a finger. "Now usually the birthday boy gets all the gifts, but today we're going to be giving the biggest present to someone else."

There was a murmuring in the crowd that didn't quite mask the sound of the elevator.

"And it's being delivered right about now," Yugi said.

The elevator door opened.

Two bearded men – one with dark hair, one with blond – in ragged vests and khaki shorts stepped out, escorting between them a third man. This person was a strange sight: dark-skinned, barefoot, muscular, with buzz-cut black hair framing a tattooed-and-tribally-scarred face.

And pale pale gray eyes.

Kaiba barely noticed as someone took the glass of ginger ale from his hand. Someone else caught the barstool that fell over as he stood. The crowd parted, and he stood in shock, whispering, "It – I – how – Mo – Mo-?"

The strange man walked forward. "It's good to be home."

The embracing brothers were oblivious to all else as the crowd clapped and cheered.

.

"I don't understand … " Kaiba said. He was kneeling in front of the couch where his brother sat, oblivious to the tears that ran down his face and dripped off his jaw. "How?"

"It was _his_ idea." Rebecca Hopkins, who was sitting next to Mokuba holding his hand with both of hers as if she thought he'd float away, tilted her head at the bearded blond man sitting on the arm of the couch (who everyone had finally recognized as Jounouchi).

"No no," Jounouchi held up his hands. "_Anzu _should get all the credit."

Anzu huffed and shook her head, rubbing her huge stomach. "Okay, so Jounouchi was visiting while _I_ was watching a _telenovela – _"

Jounouchi coughed a thank you.

" – and suddenly one of the characters who had been missing from the show for years came back. Her character was supposed to be dead, but in the plot they gave her amnesia to explain why she hadn't come back sooner. We both laughed and said, _Wouldn't it be crazy if that's what happened with Mokuba?_ But then Jou called Rebecca, and she said that if Mokuba had survived the crash, depending on where the plane went down he might have been picked up by one of the rainforest tribes, since they've helped crash survivors before."

Rebecca nodded. "And I remembered how he'd always joked that he'd like to go native."

"Well, I wouldn't have wanted it to be that way, to go so long without letting you know I was alive," Mokuba said, his voice deep and lilting. "I know it must have been hell for you." He leaned forward and put his hand on Kaiba's shoulder, and they spent a beat just looking at each other.

"So where were you?" Shizuka asked.

"I was mostly with the Matis and the Marubos. I gotta say, 'Becca's a hell of a good teacher." He looked at her and grinned. "I didn't remember her, but somehow I remembered all the dialects she taught me."

Noroshi, who had spent most of the party sitting out of sight of Kaiba, took up the narrative. "We'd done aerial searches after we lost contact six years ago, but Miss Hopkins said that they planned to do a ground search based on the flight plan, traveling along the rivers in the Javari Valley to see if they could pick up any rumors of strangers that had been adopted into a tribe."

"It was a huge long shot," said Honda, whose beard made him look rather satanic. "But as usual this guy is swimming in luck." He nudged Jounouchi with his elbow.

"That's why I wouldn't let you know where I was going," Jounouchi said to Kaiba, "because I didn't want to get your hopes up. But I guess I didn't realize how my leaving would look from your perspective."

"You mean the perspective that you'd gone gay backpacking with Hiroto?" Otogi said brightly. When Honda slapped the back of his head he squawked, "What? _What?_ I can't be the only one who thought that!"

Everyone laughed except Kaiba.

"How did you get your memory back?" Shizuka asked Mokuba.

He raised an eyebrow at Rebecca. "You wanna tell this part?"

"Sure," she shrugged. "So, we went up and down the rivers, talking mostly to traders, until about a week ago we followed a lead, stories of a man with strange eyes. There are dozens of tiny tribes in the isolated areas that haven't had outside contact yet. So we go tramping through the jungle, and then _right_ after our guide ditches us we're surrounded by a dozen guys with blowpipes as long as your arm. I only understand about one word in ten of their dialect – "

"– but fortunately it was enough for us to not get darts of death in the neck," Honda chimed in. "And you forgot to mention that all those guys were _naked_."

"Nah, they were wearing belts," Jounouchi said, picking up the story. "Anyhow, one of them maybe looks kinda familiar in the face, and I think he could be Mokuba since he's the only one without brown eyes. So I hold up this –" He reached into his vest and pulled out a wrinkled, much-handled paper, then unfolded it to show an enlarged color photocopy of a Blue Eyes White Dragon card. "I had a bunch of these with me, since I knew I couldn't take any of Kaiba's cards from storage. Which was okay, since a real card would have been too small to show around anyhow."

"Yeah, and as it turned out, those photocopies were like, gold or something," Honda said. "We traded them for food, water purifying tablets – "

" – socks," Rebecca said with a laugh. "Oh, and that horrible stinky snake butter that was supposed to keep the mosquitoes off."

Mokuba shook his head. "A hundred years from now those dragons are gonna seriously make some anthropologist's career. Or ruin it."

"So," Kaiba asked, his voice thick with emotion, "The Blue Eyes picture brought back your memory?"

Mokuba nodded. "A little. I knew I'd been called Kaiba Mokuba, that I had a brother with blue eyes. 'Becca and the guys kept talking to me a lot as we traveled out of the jungle back to Iquitos, and more stuff comes back almost every day. Though there are other things – Gozaburo, Duelist Kingdom, high school – that I can dimly picture if I'm told about them, but it feels like they happened to someone else." He smiled at his brother. "I remembered you though. Being in the orphanage, us playing chess. Oh and I remember being your Battle City Commissioner, too. My silver whistle. Can't remember the tournament, but I remember the whistle."

Everyone laughed at that, and Kaiba swiped his sleeve across his face.

"Oh!" Rebecca said. "I have pictures!" She pulled a stack from her bag, passed them around. Most showed a slightly sleepy looking Mokuba in an _I Love Brazil_ t-shirt, his hair in a flat bowl cut, surrounded by the very happy Rebecca, Honda and Jounouchi.

"Aw, no snaps of you in your loincloth-belt? How disappointing!" Otogi said, then added, "Nice hair though, Moe. Do Curly and Larry know you're back?"

Mokuba grinned and rubbed the black fuzz on his head. "I left all that behind in Iquito."

"So what do you want to do first?" one of the Roba Brothers asked. "Movies? Pizza? Shower? Get un-tattooed?"

"Probably sleep. Spend time with my brother. Catch up with what's been going on around here the past few years." He waved a hand. "Nice place, by the way." He looked down at his feet. "Wow, I guess I have to get used to wearing shoes again. That'll be weird."

"Pfft. I pity the shoes," Rebecca said. "Right now you could pound nails with those calluses, I swear."

In the midst of more laughter, Kaiba stood suddenly and strode from the room.

"I'll be right back," Jounouchi said, then hurried after.

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"Knock knock." Kaiba's bedroom door was open, but the room was mostly in shadow, partly illuminated by the light from the hallway.

Kaiba was a dark silhouette against the nighttime Domino light-scape, staring out the window, his arms folded. "Is the party adequate?"

"More than. It's great that Yugi and Anzu got so many of Mokuba's friends to come. Seeing all those faces might help get back more of his memory." Jounouchi stopped. He got the impression that Kaiba was angry at him, and he didn't understand why. Not that he expected that finding Mokuba was gonna get Kaiba to proclaim him the best friend ever, but he had expected at least a _little_ thank you from Big Brother.

"You could have _told_ me, Jou." His voice was icy. "It was humiliating, trying to explain to people that I had no idea where you were without making it sound as though you'd – _run away_." He snorted. "It didn't help that that peacock Otogi has been calling me and offering to take me to dinner, talking as if you were never coming back."

"I know, but – it was such a long shot, it just seemed better that you didn't know what we were up to. In case we didn't find him. I mean, we were hoping, but deep down none of us really expected to."

Kaiba gave a soft, sharp half-laugh. "I still can't believe that you did."

"Neither can I. It was like a miracle. A really well-planned one, but still." Jounouchi was thinking that this was as close as he was going to get to a thank you.

"When Yugi gave me your letter," Kaiba said slowly, "before I read it, I asked him if the letter was going to tell me that you had a fatal disease and that you'd gone off somewhere to die. He said _Jou wouldn't do that. If he was dying he'd want to be with friends._ I didn't know what to make of that."

"Why?"

"Is it true? Do you really feel that way? You see me as a friend?"

"Well, of course." Jounouchi walked across the dark room. "We are friends, aren't we?"

"That letter," Kaiba said, now sounding irritated. "When I read it – after what Yugi had said – I couldn't figure out what you could possibly mean. '_This roommate thing probably isn't gonna work for me, long term.'_ I began to think I'd missed some key fact. Or was all that just bullshit to distract me?"

"Yes and no," Jounouchi said. "The letter was supposed to throw you off, but it had truth in it." He could hear the intake of breath, as if Kaiba was about to say something, but he didn't, so he went on, hoping that what he wanted to say wouldn't sound too cold. "I'm glad we found Mokuba for you, because – "

"No need to explain." The voice was flat, matter of fact. "You're off the hook. Mokuba can take over as my babysitter."

Jounouchi winced. "That's putting it brutally."

"It's putting it honestly."

"Kaiba, you know as well as I do that it's time for me to go." Jounouchi felt bad that they were having this out in the middle of a party, but he supposed that to stop the conversation now would be worse. "I've enjoyed being here, and I hope that you've enjoyed my being here too. But it would be awkward if I stayed."

"I don't see why." Kaiba sounded irritated. The unasked question hung in the air, unanswered for long moments. "Where will you go?"

"Probably back to Australia for a while," Jounouchi said, having decided this on the spot. "Kajiki has been after me for years to come down and help him run the reef tours again."

"It's true," Kaiba said mildly, "that with Mokuba back I won't be alone. But all this you've said – " He unfolded his arms and turned around. "– it proves to me that you are still an idiot," he said quietly, in the voice he had usually reserved for Mokuba, "if you think I will _not_ miss you if you leave. I didn't realize being here, and not … I didn't realize it was difficult for you." He paused. "I want you to stay."

"_Now_ you tell me," Jounouchi said.

"Yes," Kaiba said. "Now I tell you."

.

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_~ The end ~_

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P.S. Pretty please, reviewers,  
it would be much appreciated if you would avoid spoilers for this chapter  
in your comments. ~

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Concept, 17 July 2010  
(15) 10 October 2011 ~ some edits. Moved AN.


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